


The Stars Sometimes Fall

by AriRashkae



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriRashkae/pseuds/AriRashkae
Summary: Alien artifacts can have unexpected consequences. Immortality is sometimes one of them.It's rarely the blessing anyone thinks it is.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZaliaChimera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Forever is Our Today](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10020728) by [ZaliaChimera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera). 



It wasn’t when he noticed his friends were slowly going grey and he wasn’t.

_He’d noticed it in Carolina, first, of all people, little bits of silver in among her golden roots._

It wasn’t when their grandkids were graduating, and he was mistaken for a father or uncle.

_The fact that it was_ Caboose’s _spawn that consistently grabbed_ summa cum laude _still floored him, even though he knew he should know better._

It wasn’t even when he buried Wash, who had actually died of old age, against all expectations to the contrary.

_He’d spent the weeks after that getting completely hammered, finding new alcohol combinations that should never be tried again by anyone. Ever. It was going to be a long time before he could even look at another pineapple._

No, the first time Tucker had really, _really_ grasped the fact that he was going to be alone, forever, was when he finally tracked down Locus.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Locus since their fight at the Communications Temple. He’d caught glimpses here and there, over the years, but never enough to actually be able to follow him. Locus had grown bolder as Tucker's friends had aged and steadily become less of a threat. The fucker had actually had the gall to show up at one of the anniversary memorials.

It hadn’t ended happily for either of them.

Tucker had kept better tabs on him after that, even if he hadn’t caught up with him before now. He’d spent the entire trip out planning different scenarios. Ambushes, confrontations, even toyed with the idea of arresting him and hauling him back to Chorus.

He’d discarded that idea after a few moments daydreaming. Sure, it would have been nice, get that whole “returning hero” schtick going again for a while, but in reality it would just have been more headaches than any heroism. First and foremost would be proving they were who Tucker said they were, this many decades later.

But with all the possible ways he’d expected to encounter Locus, he’d never considered finding him in a graveyard, in civvies, watching a funeral.

Okay, Tucker knew he was an asshole. He could be loud, impulsive, even obnoxious. And there were definitely times he gave no fucks whatsoever about what society considered “acceptable behavior.” But he wasn’t so crass as to start shit at someone’s funeral.

_At least he bothered to dress nice for the occasion._ The stray thought bubbled up through the disbelief, nearly making him give away his position. The sound dampening on Sarge and Dr. Grey’s improved camo units wouldn’t be enough to cover hysteria.

Tucker was cloaked, yes, but also hiding behind one of those statue grave markers. The kind that were on a huge pedestal so you could carve whole families into them. And fuck, some of these only had one date listed, or ones only a few days apart. So much for modern medicine.

Could the world stop being depressing for just five minutes, please? Tucker pulled his eyes away from the list of names and looked back to the man he was following.

Locus looked … he looked _small_. Shoulders slumped, head bowed, pulling in on himself... It was a marked contrast from when he’d strode across Chorus, a demon in green and grey. If Tucker hadn’t spent part of the trip out memorizing what Locus looked like under the armor, he wouldn’t have recognized him.

Finally the priest or minister or whoever was officiating wound down and stepped aside to let people pay their last respects. Tucker didn’t have the audio dialed up enough to hear what was said, but it didn't really matter.

People broke into little clumps, talking and hugging and crying. Whoever this was, they apparently had a lot of people who missed them.

So what the hell was _Locus_ doing here?

A girl, maybe about ten, was wandering around with a basket of funeral flowers, selecting different ones and handing them to the mourners. Tucker spotted white stargazer lilies and chrysanthemums, along with multiple hues of roses, gladioli, and orchids.

_Too many funerals,_ he thought. He could hear Donut listing off the meanings in every arrangement.

To Tucker’s horror, the girl spotted Locus standing off to the side. None of the adults made any attempt to stop her from heading toward him, although several watched in mild curiosity. Tucker shifted slightly, balancing to throw himself out there and grab her if necessary.

Locus himself didn’t seem to notice her approach until she was only a few feet away from him. He startled, but it was too late to withdraw.

She smiled up at Locus. “You look like Pop-pop’s friend.”

Tucker froze.

Locus cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“You look like Pop-pop & Grammie’s friend. In their pictures. But he had a scar … right here.” She drew an X across her face with her free hand.

Tucker caught himself before he could suck in a breath. Not that it would have been audible. He inched forward until he had the clearest view he could manage without getting spotted. She was right. Locus must have covered the scar with makeup or something. Tucker hadn’t really noticed before.

The image of Locus applying foundation nearly made him giggle hysterically again.

Locus cleared his throat again. “I … I’ve been told I resemble my grandfather.”

She nodded, as if that was explanation enough. “Are you coming to lunch?”

_Please, kid, shut up and go back to your parents,_ Tucker thought furiously.

“... no.” _Oh, thank God._ “I have … somewhere to be. But …” He looked past her to the gravesite. “I wanted to say goodbye, first.”

She nodded again, solemnly. Tucker thought she might finally go back but, _No, of course not, she’s digging in her basket what the fuck, kid?_

Locus stared at the two sprays of flowers she held out to him. When she showed no sign of leaving, he held out his hand and let her lay them across his palm. Satisfied that she had done her job, she _finally_ turned and ran back to her family.

Tucker watched, bemused, as Locus carefully wrapped his fingers around the stems.

_“The gladiolus embodies strength of character, sincerity, and moral integrity. Faithfulness and perseverance. Yellow is cheerfulness and compassion. Purple is charm, grace, and mystery.”_

Tucker swallowed hard. Way, _way_ too many funerals.

Slowly, the crowd dispersed, climbing into their cars, presumably headed for the lunch the girl had mentioned. Locus watched them leave, still clutching the flowers he’d been handed.

When the last car had pulled away, Locus stepped forward. Tucker followed, using Wash and Carolina’s stealth lessons, even though they probably weren’t necessary. But if anyone could spot the shimmer of active camouflage in motion, it was Locus.

Locus, however, didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything around him. His movements were slow, almost hesitant, as he stepped up to the head of the casket.

Grieving.

Tucker paused. It hadn’t really clicked that this might be someone Locus _knew_. But if the Key had kept Tucker alive far too long, then it had most likely done the same to the mercenary, too.

“I'm sorry.”

The quiet words caught Tucker off guard. He frowned; what in the world …?

“I’m sorry I … I didn’t look back. I’m sorry I was such a coward.” He laid his free hand on the gravestone. “I’m sorry we weren’t deserving of the faith you both placed in us.”

Tucker pulled back slightly. He’d never expected Locus to actually have anything to say.

“I hope you didn’t see the broadcast all those years ago. I’m fairly certain you didn’t; if you had, the pair of you likely would have tracked me down yourselves, if only just to skin me.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb over the smoothed granite.

Tucker stayed crouched behind a headstone, just watching. This was a lot more personal than he was comfortable with. He didn’t _want_ to see Locus as a person. As _human_. It felt like he was betraying everyone he ever cared about.

He almost missed Locus’ next words.

“I can’t do this. It’s … it’s too big. I’ve done … I’ve ruined too much. Too many lives. There’s no way to balance the scales.” Locus sighed and rubbed his forehead, laughing a little mirthlessly. “Although, it looks like I might live long enough to find a way after all.”

He laid the flowers across the headstone. “I never thought I’d be the last one standing.” He went quiet again, tracing the names carved in the stone.

Carefully, Tucker slipped away. He could afford to give Locus one day, right?

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>   
> 


End file.
